


Another Day

by Tab_toll



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Needs a Hug, Anders Whump, Angst, Circle of Magi, Gen, Justice Positive, Mage Rights, Other, Sad Anders (Dragon Age), Scars, Tags will be updated as it comes along, Templars (Dragon Age), author is basically dumb and wants to write poor-me feels, descriptions of violence, mentions of non-con/rape, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 19:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tab_toll/pseuds/Tab_toll
Summary: I’m not locked in, I’m not in the basement, and I’m not in solitary. Just breathe.The mantra wasn’t a new one, as familiar to him now as it had been ever since he’d gotten out.Anders focused his bleary eyesight on the one source of light in his room, gazing at the small flame as if it held all the answers to his troubles. He could feel a small grumble from Justice, and a vague smile fought its way to the surface.“I know, old friend.” He laid his hand on top of the scar above his heart. “I know.”





	1. What a lovely day

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo.... I had to try out some new writing inspo that fell my way. And since I'm both unused/bad at it, but Had Lots Of Angsty Feely Stuff (tm) to write, I thought "why not"! Hopefully this will get me out of my boring academic writing, and onto some cooler stuff I wanna get my grubby inspiration into. And hopefully even improve each chapter! Wish me good luck! :D  
> Not Beta-read, and since English isn't my first language, there might be a lot of mistakes. Feel free to point it out if you want! :D 
> 
> Lastly I want to say that Anders has all my love, and this will be a Justice-positive-ish fic. This is a fan work, I do not own the Dragon Age franchise, and this is merely personal headcanon-fodder. 
> 
> \- Peace!

Days like this was when it all seemed worthless, like all effort he’d spent on moving forward only felt like a small shuffle towards actual freedom. Anders controlled his breathing as he laid in his bed, the room around him dark except from the small flickering candle on his desk. The darkness loomed, heavy, as if it was a thick, cloying cloak that was ready to fall down and suffocate him. The sun had yet a few hours before it had to show its face, and wake the rest of the town. He jammed his palms into his eye sockets, seeing the small sparkle of stars chase away the darkness.  

_No use in laying about in bed anyway. Not on a day like this._

Anders shook his head and sat up on the side of his makeshift bed. He’d lain awake, feeling his body ache as he listened to the smattering rain that could be heard even down here in Darktown.

He rubbed his left hand over his face, as the other one gripped his right knee.

_Today was extra bad._

He squeezed his knee firmly, to feel some pain other than that that wracked his body. His back seemed inflamed as the scars pulsated with agony as the cold air chilled the sweaty shirt on his back. Tossing and turning in bed hadn’t done him any favours, as his nerves seemed raw and his heartbeat had blackened his sight as he tried not to panic at the old memories scratching inside his head. A shaky hand traced a few of the reminders from the whippings he’d endured, peeking up on his neck and shoulders. Feeling the bumps on his skin, trying and failing to remember just _how_ many lashes they all counted up to. The combination of cold and wet air he breathed in seemed to choke him as he tried to catch his breath.

_I’m not locked in, I’m not in the basement, and I’m not in solitary. Just breathe._

The mantra wasn’t a new one, as familiar to him now as it had been ever since he’d gotten out.

Anders focused his bleary eyesight on the one source of light in his room, gazing at the small flame as if it held all the answers to his troubles. He could feel a small grumble from Justice, and a vague smile fought its way to the surface.

“I know, old friend.” He laid his hand on top of the scar above his heart. “I know.”

Sighing he rose to his feet, hissing as he felt his bones groan and crack in retaliation. Gritting his teeth me hissed in a shaky breath and ignored the cold ground under his feet as he shuffled forward to the desk.

“Just another day, right?” He shook his head as he reached for his threadbare pants hanging on his chair in front of the desk. Swiftly putting them on and shrugging into his equally threadbare shirt, he looked down upon his work on the desk. He should spend a few hours starting a few brew batches of potions, maker knows he would soon need them. Mentally adding lyrium potions to the list of things to stock up on, he sighed and cracked his back as he stretched. Sleeping, or something the like, on his only bed took some toll.

_Maker, if doesn’t that make me feel old…_

A quick once over the rack of dried hanging herbs, he dully noted the need for more elfroot.

“Can never have too much elfroot, in any case.” Anders reached for his overcoat. Quickly planning for the short time he had before the opening of his clinic, he decided to spend a few coins in the Lowtown bazaar, than trek the way over to Sundermount. He doubted Tomwise would have the quantities he would need, but while coins were hard to gain and harder to keep, the time it saved would hopefully be worth it. He shuffled towards the bed again, lifting the rudimentary mattress and reached for this coin purse. Testing out the weight with a few shakes, the weight of it making him purse his lips in thought, he opened it up and took a few coppers and placed the purse back gently.

He glanced back towards his desk. With a look of determination he sat down and started writing out lines on the parchment. Anders bit his lip in consentration, knowing that a few hours could be spent on writing before he’s have to both eat and open the clinic.

 _And it will soothe me enough so that I don’t wallow in my own misery... I mean, it could be worse!_ He chuckled to himself, as he felt Justice stir at his thoughts. While changes to his manifesto seemed to multiply by the hour, it was the repeated copying of lines after lines upon new parchment paper that calmed him down enough to feel the gnawing hunger in his stomach.

_Seems like a quick trip to the Hanged Man is in order, even is Corff’s mystery stew doesn’t seem all that appetising right now…_

Hopefully Varric would be there, and let’s be honest most of his business, both shady and not, all seemed to be concluded in that filthy bar. And if he wasn’t there, at least some company could almost be sure to be there. Company he sorely needed right now, to get his mind of _everything_ for a while.

“Okay! Food, lyrium, elfroot and then back again in an hour to start off the day.” He’d always been one to try for optimism, even when everything didn’t seem all that bright. Learn by doing, feel by trying and placebo optimism spices up even the dullest of mentally off days… Or something.

Anders groaned and walked towards his shoes and staff that rested by the corner at the end of his bed. Quickly shuffling into his shoes, and affixing his staff to his back he headed out into the stink of Darktown. Straightening his back, be forcibly stuffed all dark thoughts to the back of his mind. No ghosts could be dealt with today, and the pain in his body could be ignored. For now.

_Oh what a lovely day, wouldn’t you say so Justice?_

_  
_


	2. What a lovely stew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! I just wanted to say that I love all of the Kirkwall crew! ALL OF THEM. And so, a shot little chapter!   
> \- Peace!

Anders braced his hand on the wall beside the entrance to the Hanged Man, shuddering at the gritty feel of the wall against his skin. With eyes closed by the twinge in his back, he breathed out through his nose. _Calm down, nothing hurts. Everything is fine._ Anders listened to the sound of raindrops falling onto his hunched back.

He could feel Justice trying to calm him down, a feeling like a soothing cold balm behind his eyelids.

“Mage.” A deep, raspy voice sounded from behind him. Anders winced, of course why not, all that he needed right now was that mage-hating elf. He opened his eyes and casted a glance over his shoulder to look at Fenris. The elf glared at him, armed crossed as he looked like he’d smelled something disgusting.

“Elf.” Anders almost felt a vindictive gladness at the passive aggressive way he’d answered Fenris, but kept his face blank as he stared back at the elf. Fenris in turn seemed to scowl even deeper.

Anders felt Justice give him a nudge of disapproval, but a feeling of guilt couldn’t even be mustered. _Anyone but him I could have been happy to meet today._ It just didn’t seem like today would get any better.

He straightened his posture and turned around towards the elf, raising his eyebrow in question. Fenris snorted and walked towards him, making Anders’ heart do a quick stutter in anxiety. But the elf didn’t make any move to harm him other than brusquely slamming his shoulder into his, making him hiss and stumble slightly. Fenris continued on into the bar, somehow managing to slam the doors hard.  

_Ow._

Normally that shove shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, and he frowned in annoyance. The door to the bar still seemed to vibrate after being slammed, making him snort in amusement. It took so little to annoy Fenris, it was a wonder the elf didn’t have stomach sores.

_Might as well get this over with…_

He steeled himself and let himself in. His gaze immediately found the table where they usually sat, and sitting there was Isabella, Varric, Merrill and Hawke. He felt his mouth try on a tiny smile as he walked towards them, flagging down Norah to order some food.

“Anders!” Hawkes warm voice reached his ears, and he gave a quick smile to the waitress as he gave her a few coppers. Turning, Anders gave a small wave towards the table. Isabela gave him a soft look. “Look what the cat dragged in, a wet little bird.” Her mouth split in a wicked grin, showing him it was a joke.

He huffed out a tiny laugh, wiping his face with his hand and pushing back some stray hairs that were plastered on his forehead. Isabela would always have a warm place in his heart, her ribbing reminding him of a different time.

_And a different Anders._

He sat down between Varric and Merill, giving them both a slight nod in hello, Merrill giving a smile and back.

“Glad you could come, Blondie.” Varric placed a warm hand on his shoulder in greeting, instantly warming Anders heart. He patted Varric’s hand with his own.

“You know me, not even rain or snow could keep me away from my morning stew of mystery! It set’s the mood for the entire day!” Anders gave Varric a cheeky wink. “Well, I’d even say it’s almost like divination!”

Varric gave a short laugh and shook his head.

 Anders let himself be lulled into a warm calm by the conversation around him.


	3. What a lovely pissing match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this will get better, and sorry for some ooc-ing and antagonistic Fenris!  
> \- Peace!

“What about it? Mages are the same everywhere! Their weakness turns them to bloodmagic and demons. Just look around the table!” Fenris’ bitter voice pierced the ringing silence that echoed in his mind, and he felt Merrill hunch in on herself. A sharp feeling of anger quickly followed the abrupt return to the present in the pub. Anders had almost forgotten that Fenris had arrived with his own refreshments shortly after he’d sat down.

Anders felt his face contort in a sour grimace. Of course the elf had to always find a way to bring that up, especially now with two mages at the table. Even though he didn’t condone bloodmagic, he felt a small twinge of annoyance at Merrill being a constant target for scorn.

_Commander Surana, had even in the darkest moments confessed to using that blasted magic._ Justice grumbled slightly at his own hypocrisy, since Anders also were prone to lecture Merrill on the ways of bloodmagic and demons. He winced at that hint.

Anders risked a glance to Fenris’ seat at the table. The elf in question stared right at him, a look of contempt visible over the rim of his wineglass.

_I’m just so tiered of this…_

The thought left him with an uncomfortable feeling of both shame for his attitude, and a sliver of regret for thinking so in the first place. He at least had the luxury of being tiered of defending himself when others never had a chance to even try. He wrapped both of his hands around the mug of warm cider he’d been drinking, staring down at his pale knuckles.

“It isn’t a weakness of the mind, if it’s a forced solution of a problem too big to fix by themselves. The circles are rife with abuses! Mages are no better than slaves, with templars holding both the whip and the chain! A forced choice is not a real choice!” Anders managed to not raise his voice above the conversations his friends around him had, even though he was sure the ire he felt could be seen in his eyes as he placed his eyes on the elf again.

He almost jumped in his seat at the noise of Fenris’ fist being slammed into the table. The elf was hunched over, anger visibly shaking throughout his frame.

_Well, at least he didn’t slam his glass down at the table. Small mercies._

“You know _nothing_ of being a slave!” Anders could almost hear the hiss of the elf’s rage as his answer was pressed out through clenched teeth. “You whine about the _privilege_ of a roof over your head, and food to fill you belly! And then what? Did you get mad because someone told you you had to control your dangerous magic? Don’t make me laugh!” The elf spat out the last of the sentence with venom, and by now the rest of the conversation came to a stop around them. Anders glared at the elf, his words like tiny daggers slipping in under his skin. Ignoring the looks from his friends around the table, he unclenched his hands round the mug, appetite for the warm sweetness souring in his mouth. Corff’s mystery stew seemed to lay heavy in his gut, churning from the sudden anger he felt.

_Friends? They never come to your defence!_ He felt Justice’s thought shoved in his direction, slightly unfair in his condemnation. _Well… that wasn’t just, my friend._ Anders shoved back.

Clenching his fists and crushing them on his thighs under the table kept him somewhat in order, making sure he didn’t fling his hands out and risk startling the elf. Anders would never hurt him in such a way, but could understand the fear behind sharp movements, even far more so from people controlling what you fear.

_Templars, magisters… around it goes._

Anders gritted his teeth, grasping for reason. “You yourself have heard the testaments! Daily occurrences of torture! Making harrowed mages tranquil! _Constantly_ hearing we’re sins in the eyes of the Maker!” He paused for a quick breath. ”I’m not talking about missing meals or having to go to sleep at a set time!”

_Calm down, remember to breath._

“I’m not saying it’s the _same,_ but you can’t deny the similarities! The abuse, the rapes, the so-called careta-“ he was stopped by the loud sound of Fenris’ sarcastic laughter, and he felt Merrill stiffen in the seat beside him at the table.

Varric clapped his hands together once, sound sharp from where he sat. “Hey now, Broody and Blondie, let’s just calm down a bit. Let’s have a few drinks and a game of cards.” The dwarf said this with a small smile on his lips, trying to break the heavy mood.

He felt the white haired elf glare him down, brows raised even in his simmering anger.

“Mages this, mages that…” Fenris took a sip of his wine, eyes never leaving Anders’. “You speak of abuses as if _you’d_ know it.” Anders could hear from the tone in his voice that the elf obviously didn’t think he did.  
  
_And isn’t that just another tiny knife dragged down spine?_  He could almost feel the scars in his back pulsate in time with his beating heart.

Fenris snorted. “But you don’t, do you?”

A sudden silence fell over the table, and Anders just stared at the elf. Distantly he could feel his body violently going through fazes of hot and cold, while his heart stuttered in his chest. Fenris’ last words echoing inside him, ringing in a forced silence that raged inside him.

_“But you don’t, do you?”_

Abruptly he almost wanted to shout, to have a tantrum, to beat his fist bloody on the table.

_I have bled for my existence! I have withstood countless offences! I have felt that pain, and that treatment is NOT JUST! I HAVE SPENT A YEAR IN THE DARK FOR WANTING TO FEEL THE SUN ON MY FACE! I HAVE SUFFERED FOR-_ He forcefully put an end to his enraged thoughts, feeling like a spoiled child. Justice’s angry worry for him like a soothing balm. _I know, my friend._

An uneasy silence reigned at the table, the sound of the rest of the pub seemingly distant from their little pocket of the world.

“Ahhhahah, well, yeah, let’s break it up you guys... So, anyone want some more shitty beer?” Hawkes dark timbre pierced the silence, almost like a welcome breath after diving into a lake.

“Oh, count me in Hawke! You do owe me a few more pints for that slavers den last week!” Isabela voice followed at the end seat of the table. Laughter slowly creeping back into the fold.

Anders took a ragged breath, closing his eyes and slowly counting to three. As if throwing a blanket on the subject would make it go away. _Nobody wants to know, because if you don’t know it doesn’t exist…_ Unclenching his hands from their locked position on his thighs, he looked back towards Fenris.

_I don’t care what the elf sees, I just want to go home. I shouldn’t have left Darktown today…_

He opened his mouth. “It isn’t about me or my experiences, and it isn’t a personal vendetta to justify my right of existence. It’s about an unjust subjugation of people, in a system with faults big enough to leave room for exploitation. Everyone deserves to be free, and make choices for themselves. To be able to start a family, have kids, a house and some land. I’m taking a role of speaking _for_ mages because I _am_ a mage.” Anders smiled sardonically at the scoff Fenris made at his speech.

_Let’s just go…_

“And I count myself _lucky_ for even being able to utter them out loud without getting the brand.”

Ignoring the twinge of pain as he rose from his chair, he gave a halfhearted wave to his friends before he opened the door and went outside, steadfastly also ignoring the furrowed brows of a particular white haired elf.  

_“And we still have to buy those ingredients we’re low on…”_ Anders felt Justice intone as he shut the door behind him, his bolero wrapped tight against his wiry frame to protect him from the rain.

_Just another day, right?_

He stepped out into the rain and started walking towards Sundermount.


End file.
